


Collared Innocence

by StarkerKeyz



Series: Superior Soulmate AU [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 19 Year Old Peter Parker, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Sex, Armor Kink, D/s, D/s elements, Daddy Kink, Endo-Sym Armor Kink, Face-Fucking, First Time, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive SIM, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulwords, Superior Iron Man, cage's gift au on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22389148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkerKeyz/pseuds/StarkerKeyz
Summary: “Do you want to be my intern?”Peter drops his chin, blushing and ducking under the heavy scrutiny that feels like a palm along his body. His tongue flicks out over his bottom lip; his eyes skate down to the spot where he can imagine a shimmery glow coming through Mr. Stark’s clothing. He looks back up when heat clenches way down deep in his core, knowing what his answer would be."Yes, Sir."
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Superior Soulmate AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611547
Comments: 4
Kudos: 519





	Collared Innocence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cagestark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cagestark/gifts).



> My soulmate au brought over from tumblr! I hope everyone over here enjoys it, too 🥰 dedicated to my good bestie, cagestark! 💖💖💖
> 
> (This is a soulmate AU where your words don’t appear until your soulmate actually speaks them to you).
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful theMadstarker💕

“He’s arrived, sir.” Bucky says without indicating who ‘he’ is. 

Tony looks up from where he’s been doling out punishment by way of pummeling jaws out of alignment and teeth from their sockets. 

He flicks his wrist, an unnecessary gesture to activate his nanobots but one he indulges in to help channel his many thoughts. 

A nest of silver-blue streamers burst out of the casing on his chest. Any scrapes and bruises are washed and attended to by the tentacles of his nanotech as he strides away from the mess he’s made.

“Is there a room?” Tony asks. 

Bucky closes the door behind Tony without prompting and then follows beside him. He nods his head yes to the question and elaborates.

“The meeting room on the second lab floor. All schedules have been diverted and any surveillance equipment is keyed to your tech exclusively. Are you sure you don’t want the gas? He’s enhanced.” Bucky says it like a question but they both know Tony won’t use it. He’s too fascinated by the kid in general and too cocky in his own abilities overall. 

“He’s Spider-Man.” 

Tony smooths his nanobots back into their casing below his dress shirt and straightens his tie. He makes sure there’s no blood on the cuffs and tsks when he sees some he missed; proceeds to roll them up his forearm until not a drop is showing. Better. 

Tony turns to Bucky and grins, blue eyes glinting. “Spider-Man wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 

* * *

Peter walks into Stark Industries with fluttering twists in his belly and writhing knots in his chest. His college is on a rotation that lets intern applicants tour the facilities they’d applied for; the students get to network and the employers get to weed out the diamonds in the rough.

“What am I supposed to do if I run into him? What if he asks me to get him a coffee?! What do I say if he asks me to be his _intern_! What if Tony-Fucking-Stark asks me to be his _personal_ intern?! What do I say to the man that has everything?” Peter frantically says to MJ. 

They’re in the back of the group and he’s trying to keep his voice down. The answering, masculine drawl that comes from right behind him (spider senses why did you fail _now_ ) makes him nearly web himself to the ceiling. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Peter whirls around at the voice and then promptly swallows his tongue as the space between his nipples fires up, unmistakable and all-consuming. The sensitive skin draws immediately into tight, throbbing peaks. 

There, watching him with a quirk and a flirty look over his shades -he’s wearing them indoors but pulling it off with his intense blue eyes and Peter’s fannish, intimate knowledge of every research paper published about that silver-blue Endo-Sym nanobot glow- is none other than THE Tony-Fucking-Stark.

“Hey! I-I’m-I’m-I’m Peter Parker!” Peter pushes his hand out and bites his lip over the sensation of his own shirt across his chest. What the-? Is it really his 'Words-?

“Tony,” Mr. Stark says it while taking Peter’s hand, easily brushing aside Peter’s starstruck and distracted introduction with an indication to himself. 

Peter feels a stab of hurt and a little confusion. He's pretty sure the flames licking across his skin were _those ones_ , the telltale ache of 'Words tattooing themselves into his flesh to tell the whole world that Tony Stark is his soulmate. If Mr. Stark isn’t reacting though, then maybe...maybe he isn’t-

“Well, Peter Parker.” Mr. Stark steps up close; rolls with the motion, really. 

He’s up in Peter’s space and there’s nowhere to run except forward, right into those waiting arms. Mr. Stark takes his shades off and pins Peter in place with a look so intense that his Soulwords feel tugged on, feel caressed and stroked and wrapped around Mr. Stark’s finger already, and with each pull, his nipples _throb_.

“Do you want to be my intern?” 

The quirk at his mouth evolves into a deeper uptick, slanting wickedly enough to have Peter’s blood racing. He swallows and there was an audible, humiliating _click_ like he was in high school all over again. 

Mr. Stark doesn’t physically move closer but his very presence seems to be getting close enough to rub along Peter’s skin, raising gooseflesh and tickling all his tender places at once. 

Peter drops his chin, blushing and ducking under the heavy scrutiny that feels like a palm along his body. His tongue flicks out over his bottom lip; his eyes skate down to the spot where he can imagine a shimmery glow coming through Mr. Stark’s clothing. He looks back up when heat clenches way down deep in his core, knowing what his answer would be.

What had he been so worried about? The choice is _obvious_ once he's here, actually living it. 

Actually meeting his soulmate who turns out to be Tony Stark? Feeling his Soulwords burn themselves into his chest and knowing (hoping) that his own words have appeared somewhere on the older man’s body? 

Peter knows exactly what his answer is and it trips off his tongue as breathlessly as the rest of this conversation has made him feel.

“Yes, Sir.”

* * *

“Take off your clothes, baby.” 

Tony is already loosening his tie and working the buttons open on his dress shirt. 

He locks the door behind them; they’ve moved into the meeting room Bucky’d prepared in advance upon seeing Peter’s name on this year's applicants roster. He knows Peter Parker is Spider-Man before the young upstart ever got to the building; finding out he's also Tony’s soulmate when those sweet, stuttering words seared themselves into the scars around the nanobot casing is better than he’d ever anticipated the meeting going. 

While Peter is fumbling with the many buttons on his dress shirt, Tony takes the time to examine his own Soulwords. 

Peter’s messily scrawled words adorning his arc reactor are Spider-Man themed; the distinctive red and blue stands out even atop his thick scarring. The nanobot casing reflects across them like ripples at an aquarium, soft but promising in their shifting streamers of bright blue. Everything about his boy is turning out to be so beautiful and _soft_. 

The contrast of knowing Peter’s body is enhanced, knowing he can be so soft but still _take_ what Tony plans on giving him, has Tony’s cock lengthening in his pants.

“Oh, wow.” Peter’s looking down at the silver and blue words that marked themselves onto his skin only twenty minutes ago. MJ is going to tease him relentlessly for essentially having the words ‘Yes, sir.’ tattooed across his chest. They don’t look raw or puffy like a real tattoo would have though; they look like they’ve been there all his life, actually. 

He’s shirtless and too distracted by the novelty of _his Soulwords_ to keep undressing. He drops his clothing on the floor and touches one silver letter, tracing the blue accents and gasping softly. His nipples tighten right back up, abdominal muscles flexing from the deep _zing_ of sensation he’s just discovered Soulwords can produce. 

“Babyboy, are you having fun?” 

Tony’s words bring Peter’s head up and his hands drop guiltily. Tony loves the color his cheeks go when he’s embarrassed. 

He leans against the long table in-between two chairs and waves a hand to motion his soulmate over. He spreads his legs and tugs Peter in close then grabs one of his hands and places it on Tony’s chest, right over the silvery-blue casing and the red-blue words ringing it. 

“You’re allowed to touch mine, too.”

Peter nods, looking awed and overwhelmed and just staring at where his hand is sitting on _Tony Stark’s_ chest. On _The Endo-Sym casing!_ The Endo-Sym casing that’s _on_ Tony Stark who is not only his _soulmate_ but who is _hot as hell_ -he’s even better than he looks on TV? Did he really have to wear the dress-shirt-sleeves-rolled-up-to-mid-arm-look so well, earlier? That should be illegal?- and he very clearly wants to ‘get to know’ Peter better _right now_. 

Peter’s head is swimming from how quickly things went from zero to sixty with the man. It hasn’t stopped him from getting hard in his pants or from taking the opportunity presented to willingly cage himself inside the older man’s presence. 

“I always dreamed about meeting you,” Peter whispers breathlessly after he’s regained some of his ability to think beyond his dick rubbing against his underwear and his heart going crazy in his chest. 

He flushes across the bridge of his nose and the tops of his cheeks from the raw honesty, wondering what's wrong with him that he turns into such a bumbling fanboy. 

He goes to take his hand back, embarrassed, when Tony’s covers his own and pins it down. 

The look Peter’s getting when he raises his eyes is dark and promising and it makes the hairs on Peter’s nape stand up and his toes curl at once. 

“Don’t be ashamed, sweetheart. I’m so glad I finally met you, too.”

Tony leaves Peter’s hands on his chest and reaches down to undo Peter's slacks for him. He cups Peter’s erection through the simple gray boxer-briefs he’s wearing and exhales heavily when Peter digs his nails into the skin of his Soulwords. _Fuck_. 

The scars haven’t been that sensitive in _years_ but one inelegant swipe of this kid's fingernails over the red and blue letters feels like a livewire straight to his dick. 

“I’m going to fuck you like you _deserve_ , babyboy. You want me to?”

“ _Yes, please,_ God, I’m, I-” Peter trips over his words as he only devotes a portion of his brain power to talking and mostly focuses on the nanite casing. It’s swirling silver-blue in front of his eyes and the red and blue words -his words, _his words_ \- burn beneath his fingertips. 

Mr. Stark’s grip tightens as if to remind Peter that he should really be paying attention somewhere much lower than their respective Soulwords. His thighs quiver apart a hands-width for his soulmate and then he rises onto his tiptoes with a gasp when he’s rewarded with another firm squeeze. 

“Are you a virgin, Peter?” Tony’s not stopping even if he is. It’s good to know his soulmate’s history and experience so he can take him apart more easily, though. 

“Uh, well, uhm.” 

Peter shifts his weight from pinky toe to opposite pinky toe in a nervous roll; his eyes roll upwards when Tony meets and follows his movements so they work together to turn his fidgeting into a filthy grind of his cock into the palm of Tony’s hand. His calves are straining from being up on tiptoe for so long but he doesn’t even think about retreating from that touch.

“Answer me.” Tony’s voice is low and commanding. 

He’s pleased to see Peter’s eyes orient themselves onto his own immediately. He squeezes his hand in reward and watches the pleased expression tighten around Peter’s eyes and jaw. 

“Never a real dick!” Peter says it louder than he intends and flushes hotly in embarrassment. 

He shifts his weight again and goes to drop his eyes until Tony very pointedly takes his hand away. Peter looks back and wonders why the combination of meeting Tony’s wickedly blue gaze with the amazing return of his soulmate’s hand on his dick makes him feel controlled and managed and safe and good?

“But a fake one? That’s good, baby,” Tony encourages with his words and rewards with his hands. 

He eases Peter down flat on his feet and finishes undressing him in quick succession. He removes Peter’s hands from his 'Words with a kiss to his knuckles, maneuvers them around so Peter is the one leaning against the conference table, and then kneels. He runs his hands up Peter’s body, starting at his heels and ankles and working upwards without ever lifting his touch from Peter’s skin. He leans forward and mouths at Peter’s thighs, hands coming up from behind to cup his ass and tease inwards. 

“I- I don’t have any lube.” Peter spreads his legs anyway. When he’d thought about being whisked away and bent over a table by this man, it had always been within the context of _fantasy_. He didn’t think he’d ever get this far in real life.

“Sit on the table and put your feet on the legs of the chairs by my shoulders,” Tony orders, close enough for the words to wash across the shaft of Peter’s dick. 

Peter hops up without question and only hesitates a moment when he realizes how exposed he’s going to be. He puts his feet down anyway, doing his best to ignore the blush spreading down his chest as Tony examines every inch of him, from hole to balls to cock and up even to his nipples and face if he wants. _Everything_ is on display and for the taking, if only Tony wants. 

“So gorgeous,” Tony praises, thumbing Peter’s cheeks apart even wider. He smirks deeply at the way his young soulmate stutters and squirms under his words. 

Possibly, it was also in response to the thin blue ribbon that had begun snaking its way out of the casing on Tony’s chest. The nanobot streamer makes its way down to Tony’s hands and caresses Peter’s puckered inner skin delicately. 

“Oh, my god,” Peter exhales his words with a breathy sigh. 

The nanotech starts out dry but it's getting slicker with each pass across Peter’s opening until it finally slides inside. It's working him open and slicking him up at the same time, twisting and turning, unlike anything Peter’s ever felt before. 

Peter never takes his eyes off the slender blue tech connecting him to his soulmate but even though it _feels_ like he's being fucked open now, he never sees the ribbon pull back; it only ever surges forward, dripping artificial lube down his cheeks and Tony’s thumbs as it stuffs him fuller and fuller.

“You take me so well, baby.” Tony’s praising him again and it feels as good as a hand on Peter’s cock. 

His hips buck, eager and wanton, accidentally shoving the chairs away when the nanotech does something inside of him that makes him see stars and forget his strength. Tony tucks Peter’s knees over his shoulders and keeps talking. 

“You’re going to take my cock even better. You were born for it, weren’t you? My soulmate. You’re _meant_ to take my cock.”

“Yes, yes, please-” Peter clasps his hands together and bites his lower lip, trying not to break anything as he starts losing control. “-I want it, I _want_ your cock, please?”

“Arms around my neck, sweetheart.” 

Tony slips Peter’s legs from his shoulders to his waist as he disengages the nanotech and stands up. His soulmate’s arms link around him as he asked and he lifts the younger man off the desk entirely. He holds Peter above his cock, sliding his cockhead against the slippery rim. The tiny kitten sigh he gets from the teasing is worth holding back from his immediate urge to slam home. 

“You’re perfect.” Tony nips at Peter’s neck. 

He starts to lower him down, slowly, controlled and precise like holding all of Peter’s weight means nothing. 

Peter leans forward, ankles hooked behind Tony and close enough they can press chest to chest. He’s breathing hard and fast; excited to not only be losing his _virginity_ but it’s to _his soulmate_ who is also _Tony Stark_. He isn’t sure what he did to deserve this but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The Endo-Sym casing presses into Peter’s Soulwords as he bottoms out and he moans shamelessly loud, going boneless for a long moment as the initial sensation short-circuits his brain. 

“Oh, babyboy, you like that?” Tony lifts and lowers Peter onto his cock, biting into his neck where it’s been left exposed to him. He can feel Peter through the psionic link as much as through his own skin. He senses Peter tighten up and squirm closer, the pain jump starting him back into the present. Tony bites down harder and feels Peter’s whine under his teeth. 

“Can you cum without being touched?” Tony asks against the bruises he’s left in his soulmate’s skin. He feels Peter shake his head ‘no’ and smiles. Not today, but someday soon, he’d have to put that to the test. “Reach down and touch yourself then, baby. We don’t have time to play today.”

Peter unhooks one of his arms and reaches down between them. The feeling of Tony spearing in and out of him is so much better than the toy he keeps hidden in the back of his bottom drawer. It’s bigger; thicker and longer but more flexible, enough to stroke his insides in ways that he’s never felt before. It’s also much warmer and comes with the addition of Tony himself; his hands cupping Peter’s ass, his forearms flexing with visible veins as he lifts and lowers Peter at the pace _he_ wants, the nanotech shimmering and swirling with promise in its casing, and Tony’s _words_ \- “Cum for me, Peter.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Peter curses and bears down onto Tony as he cums, shooting upwards between their bellies and chests, making a mess with the sheer _amount_ that he’s able to produce. He’s cum more ever since the bite but even this is excessive, for him. He can’t seem to care as his balls empty themselves of every possible drop like it’s some kind of contest. 

“ _Keep going_.” Tony’s voice is dark and honeyed. He doesn’t care about whatever plans and expectations he’s about to blow off. 

Peter obeys him like a dream. As soon as Tony had ordered him to cum, he’d felt the tightening of inner muscles in preparation. It's like Peter’s body wants to listen as much as Peter’s head. 

Peter whines, overstimulated; he bites his lower lip and keeps stroking himself, preventing his cock from softening even when it starts to hurt a little beyond the pleasure. He shifts and tightens his thighs, rocking himself a little, as if moving a different part of his body might take his mind off the needling bliss filling his dick up. 

“Don’t stop. I’m going to move you.” Tony doesn’t wait for Peter to nod since he isn’t asking for permission. 

He lowers his legs and forces Peter off of his dick. The young man blinks in confusion and alarm but doesn’t stop stroking himself, not even when Tony turns him around and bends him over the desk. His hand speeds up when Tony’s fingers caress him from hips to ribs and back again. Then Tony lines up and pushes in at the same time he leans forward, smearing Peter’s cum all over his pale back as he cups the nape of Peter’s neck and pins him to the table. 

“ _Be quiet and don’t cum_ ,” Tony orders. He fucks his hips upwards, cockhead rolling across Peter’s prostate. He smirks when Peter’s free hand immediately goes to his mouth to smother his noises. He kisses his ear. “Good boy.”

Tony keeps one hand on Peter’s nape and moves back enough to enjoy the view. His cock looks divine sinking in balls deep to the already puffy rim. 

Peter’s back is a mess of smeared white and even though Tony can’t actually _see_ it, he knows the conference table is getting just as defiled. He watches Peter’s round ass bouncing with every thrust forward that he bottoms out on. 

“Call Bucky but only put my voice through. No video of this is getting sent to anyone but me.” Tony says out loud, engaging his tech hands free. He tightens his grip on Peter’s nape when he notices the man’s hand speeding up beneath the table. 

“Yes, sir?” Bucky’s voice is respectful but amused all the same. Tony can’t fault him; he is about to play hooky so he can fuck his soulmate for the rest of the afternoon like some insatiable teenager. 

“Clean up that mess, I’m not getting back in time. Let Pepper know to cancel or rearrange any meetings I have for today.” Tony thrusts deep and grinds himself into Peter’s prostate at the same time he presses him harder into the table by the back of his neck. He watches Peter stuff two fingers into his mouth to muffle his cries. “And the next two days.”

“That good, huh?” Bucky’s definitely guessed part of what’s going on. There’s no way anyone could have predicted the soulmate aspect (many have argued against Tony having a soul to begin with) so Tony can forgive him his flippant attitude this once. 

Watching Peter go red in mortification at the same time he has to grip the base of himself to keep from cumming like Tony asked might have helped Tony feel more lenient, too.

He’s staying. So you’ll learn some respect before the next time I see you or you’re losing the other arm.” Tony’s voice is cold. 

Peter turns his head enough to look over his shoulder, long fingers still spreading his lips and tears gathered on his dark lashes. Tony pets his hand through soft curls and fucks into him hard enough his hip bones start knocking into the wood of the table.

“...Understood.” Bucky doesn’t ask questions. There’s a reason Tony’s migrated to preferring him over Steve for these everyday tasks. Steve makes a better fighter than a bodyguard with assistant duties. 

Tony cuts out the feed with a distracted wave of his hand, already dismissing the assassin in favor of Peter’s tiny, broken whimpering. 

He’s stopped stroking himself entirely and is just holding onto the base of himself for dear life. He’s got three fingers in his mouth now and the tears on his lashes have overflown and started dripping down his cheeks. 

“Baby boy, you feel so good on my cock. Are you feeling good? You like taking it?” Tony slips his fingers into Peter’s hair and pulls him back by that grip. 

Peter goes willingly; for all his super strength he lets Tony maneuver him like a ragdoll, following his lead eagerly. 

“Mhm!” Peter hums an affirmative, eyes hazy and body alight everywhere. 

His cock is a burning iron bar between his legs, hot and heavy and ready to explode at any moment. His ass is on fire and his rim, in particular, is so sensitive and shivery. 

Is this what sex always feels like? How do people ever get anything done when they can be getting dicked down this good?

“Take your fingers out of your mouth. You were so good, keeping quiet all through the call for me. So good for me. I want to hear you when you cum.” Tony drives inside of Peter even harder, knowing he can take it, relishing in the fact he didn’t have to hold back at all with Peter’s enhanced body. 

The meeting room is filled with the sounds of skin on skin and Peter’s unrestricted, breathy moaning. Tony reaches around and pushes Peter’s hand off his dick, replacing it with his own and stroking at the same brutal pace. 

“ _Cum for me._ ”

Peter lets go with a cry that would have brought concerned employees if not for the soundproofing. His balls twitch and draw up tight and _somehow_ , he shoots _again_ , getting sticky cum all over the bottom of the table and Tony’s fingers alike. His thighs shake visibly, inner walls fluttering and grasping at Tony’s cock. 

Tony lets go of Peter’s cock and reaches upwards and around instead, placing his hand flat to the Soulwords coloring the skin between his soulmate’s nipples. He presses them together, his chest to Peter’s back again, holding him there by the hand on his 'Words and the grip still weaved into his hair. He snarls under his breath; thrust once, twice more, and then sinks in and stays there, cock bucking and emptying deep within. 

He pants against the finger reddened nape of Peter’s neck, coming down and enjoying softening inside him. He strokes his index finger against the Soulwords and laughs softly when Peter gasps and tightens up. 

“You’re so perfect, sweetheart.” He kisses him gently on the neck. 

He pulls out and groans from the sight of Peter’s wrecked hole barely able to hold onto his cum. He traces the rim, stuffing his cum back inside with a fingertip idly. 

“I’ll have to get you a plug for the office.”

“A _what_.”

* * *

“What is it, baby?” Tony knows something is bothering his soulmate. They’re supposed to be eating lunch but Tony isn’t above letting the pizza go cold on his cleared off lab table to get Peter to finally open up.

“I...I shouldn’t… um… There’s something… something I wanted.” 

Peter’s eyes are caught between arousal and fear. They can’t hold steady but know better than to entirely leave Tony’s direction. He doesn’t have to make direct eye contact all the time (sometimes it makes his heart race the wrong direction of fun) so the compromise is looking at Tony’s cheek or chin or hair or ears. Peter likes to look sometimes when he’s not a nervous wreck of a human, too. 

“Why shouldn’t you? If you want something, all you have to do is ask, baby.” Tony watches Peter fondly. 

Even after all the months they’d been together and all the power and influence Peter’s gained (and the tech upgrades for Spider-Man), he'as still so nervous and jittery and sweet. 

“This… is really…... public maybe? And really personal and maybe a little weird, I’m not sure, but you probably won’t even _want_ to-”

“You’re rambling, sweetheart.” Tony smooths his hand over Peter’s red cheeks, cupping his face so that he’s gentled and redirected on Tony all at once. “I don’t care if anything you ask for is public.”

“But- I’m not, not anyone important. I’m only 19 and I _just_ started college and-”

“Peter.” The name is steel and the lack of a pet-name in combination makes Peter’s spine automatically straighten up and his wandering, nervous gaze come to heel on Tony’s. It’s only when Peter’s fluttering hands return to his lap that Tony continues. “Who am I?”

“Tony Stark, Sir.” Peter says promptly, if with a confused furrow of his brows and a question in his eyes. 

He leans forward when Tony crooks a finger at him and then he flushes up to his roots when the older man snags his wrist and places Peter’s hand right over the nanobot casing on his chest. 

It might not be the first time he’s touched it but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the flash of wonder and awe (or the way his groin stirs like a well trained pet) that overtakes him whenever he’s given the privilege. 

“What do my Soulwords say?”

“My name,” Peter answers breathlessly. 

“That’s right, sweetheart. _Your_ name. Not anyone else’s because no one else is my equal. Just you. You’re the only one worthy of branding my skin.” Tony watches the way Peter’s eyes darken and his baby’s tongue flicks out unconsciously. Tony’s lips curl at the edges, pleased. 

Peter should take all the pleasure he wants out of life. He doesn’t understand yet that he’s better than everyone else around him. He still thinks that he’s somehow _less than_ others because he likes a dick up his ass and to get on his knees for a man more than twice his age. Peter could walk around campus naked and plugged with a load of Tony’s cum and he’d still be a better person than every other creature on earth. 

Tony would make him see. 

"Go on, baby. Ask for what you need." 

Tony's blue eyes don't leave Peter's face but he catches the way his babyboy's thighs press together all the same. It makes him want to slip tendrils of his nanotech up Peter's pant legs and squeeze himself in between those strong legs, start pulling his boy apart piece by piece.

Peter looks up at Tony through his lashes, bottom lip caught in his teeth and red blooming across his cheeks and all down his neck. His hand retreats from Tony’s chest; rubs against the spot on his own sternum where his Soulwords reside, making himself jump and inhale sharply as sparks jump under his skin. 

Tony smiles softly, indulgently undressing him with his eyes but still waiting.

"Daddy, I want-" Peter shivers again and digs his nails into his skin through his shirt, twisting until there's pain on the edges and his pupils go huge, "I want a collar."

“Oh, do you now?” Tony leans forward with intrigue and clear arousal written on his tanned features. He knows of a few places he could commission one for his babyboy, depending on the material Peter picked out for himself. “Do you want _a_ collar or do you want _my_ collar, baby?”

“Yours, Daddy.” Peter responds quickly and sits up with a bounce. 

He leans forward himself and suddenly it’s a bubble all their own, even more intimate than being in Tony Stark’s private lab space. He swallows heavily and darts his eyes down to Tony’s nanobot casing and back up. He licks his lips and then noticeably lets out a heavy breath. 

“I want it to be made of your nano tech. Your...Endo-Sym armor. Please, Daddy.”

“Oh, babyboy.” 

Tony gets up and steps up into his space, pizza forgotten as he pulls Peter onto the edge of the lab stool. He glides his hand up from Peter’s navel, over his Soulwords, his collarbones, and then slowly wraps his hand around the porcelain column of throat on display. 

He activates his nano bots with a thought, designing the collar in his mind's eye while his fingers slowly bore down on Peter’s tender neck. 

“I’m going to fuck your pretty, collared throat, sweetheart.”

“ _Please_ do, Daddy,” Peter says with what breath remains in his burning lungs. 

He can see the familiar tendrils of silver snaking their way out of the casing on Tony’s chest and making their way towards him. The unrelenting grip at his throat has his cock leaking in his pants and silent, choked off kitten mewls leaving his opened mouth. 

His vision's starting to go blurry, focus narrowing into a tunnel of sensations (his cockhead rubbing into the front of his fly, his 'Words burning like a brand of _ownership_ between his nipples) combined with the increasingly fuzzy image of the writhing, living tech oozing down his Daddy’s arm. When it touches his skin, his entire frame seemed to rattle with the shudder of pleasure that overwhelmed him. 

The nano tendril spreads out beyond Tony’s still squeezing hand, forming a material that feels light as a feather and fit snugly. 

“Gorgeous,” Tony says with a purr. His hand glides up the side of Peter’s neck, thumb touching at the newly created silver nanite collar. 

It’s decorated itself to look like leather with etchings as detailed as laser-cut lace, curls and accents hugging Peter like it's painted on. 

He splits his focus and directs the collar to squeeze lightly, cutting off the blood supply but not airflow. He watches Peter’s eyes get even foggier and then lets up with a lick of his lips. 

Tony strokes lightly at the rosy skin, moving around and into the soft hair just above Peter’s nape. Fingers tighten, sure and confident, _pulling_ so that Peter’s spine bows out and he moans like his vocal cords are harp strings and he’s Tony’s instrument. 

“Now, get on your knees for Daddy.”

Peter drops without a fuss, knees spreading around one of Tony’s thousand dollar Italian leather shoes when the older man comes in tight and dismisses the Endo-Sym armor. It leaves him close to Tony’s groin, close enough to smell how musky he is, close enough to _almost_ feel the heat from Tony’s shin against Peter’s own hard cock.

“Stay still, baby.” Tony pumps himself a few times. It’s ostensibly for getting himself ready but really, he’s just enjoying the view. 

He bends Peter back by the hair, enough that his chest is arched out and his Soulwords are on display. Tony uses his other hand to grip himself, tracing the ‘Yes, Sir’ with the crown of his cock and making them both shiver. 

“Perfect. They’re perfect for you, sweetheart.” Silver, blue, and now a little smear of pearly white. _Perfect._ His soulmate is perfect.

“Stick out your tongue,” Tony commands. 

He watches Peter’s eyes dilate and rubs his cock against his narrow chest again while he waits. Peter’s nipples harden from the treatment. 

“Yes, Sir,” Peter says the words unprompted and then opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out; his eyes are hazy and playful in equal measure. He’s not as shy about what he likes anymore; not when Tony praises and encourages and makes everything feel so good. 

When Tony finally slides himself into his waiting soulmate, his cock carves itself so deeply inside, it feels like Peter is a never-ending live-wire. 

The older man slips a palm across the front of Peter’s neck, pressing down hard enough that Peter could feel the resistance against the cockhead spearing his throat open so nicely. His own dick spurts pre; embarrassingly eager to be used. 

“That’s it, baby. You’re so good for Daddy,” Tony praises, calluses scratching roughly at the Adam’s apple pinned between his hand and his dick. 

He pulls out and gives Peter a breath then pushes back in; deeper. He can feel his dick bulging out Peter’s throat across the palm he’s got on his neck. He can feel it through the psionic link to his Endo-Sym armor ringing Peter’s neck, too. He controls every aspect of his soulmate’s ability to breathe; inside and out.

Tony’s not going to last and he doesn’t intend to try. If Peter’s still hungry after lunch then he can get on his knees again and work for a second helping. 

“You can use my leg. You cum when I cum.” Tony orders, holding Peter’s head down. He feels his soulmate shuffle forward until his hot cock is pressed into Tony’s leg enough for friction. 

He waits until Peter begins rutting his hips forward and his face has gone red to let him up. He squeezes down on his carotid artery with a finger even as he gives him breath, unrelenting. 

Peter moans and sucks the tip, closing his eyes entirely with a blissed out expression around his stretched wide lips. 

Tony thrusts forward again and this time he doesn’t wait for Peter to adjust. He pumps himself in and out of his young soulmate, fucking him breathless and feeling the wet spot increasing on his leg where Peter's riding him in return. 

He keeps going, pistoning into Peter’s mouth like this hole is just as durable as any other, pinning him in place with the Endo-Sym armor and his hand. 

“ _Christ_ \- fuck!” 

Tony slams forward one last time and then pulls out just as his dick starts swelling. Cum erupts onto Peter’s chin and down to pool in his collarbones before Tony can direct himself and paint the 'Words as intended. He strokes to get any last spurts, blue eyes memorizing the site of his words on Peter’s chest drenched in his own cum. 

Peter’s face is blissed out as he hits his own peak, cock pulsing against Tony’s shin and cum shooting up as high as his knee. 

“Good boy.” Tony pets Peter’s hair and lets him rest his head against Tony’s hip, shaking and sweaty but unable to stop grinning. There’s cum on his smile. Tony leaves it untouched. There’s time enough to clean up and face the rest of the day. 

“You’re mine, babyboy.” Tony’s fingers don’t stop carding through his soft curls but his voice has dropped. Possessive and full of potential violence. The words are a brand and the collar is a promise. Nobody had better touch Peter Parker. 

“ _My_ good boy. _My soulmate_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm slowly migrating my work over from tumblr so if you know me from there and recognize some of these works, that's why! I've decided to put the current other 3 soulmate parts, when I get to them, as separate stories since it's not chronological and not tied together by plot. 
> 
> 💖💖💖Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed 💖💖💖


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